


Inking of the heart

by Terfle



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Commitment, F/M, Lovers, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-02 22:31:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12735618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terfle/pseuds/Terfle
Summary: Just because she refused a ring on her finger didn't mean she wasn't committed to him. She was very resourceful & he, extraordinarily unexpected





	Inking of the heart

In certain matters in their lives, DI Robinson and Miss Fisher didn’t always seamlessly synchronise. In one notable turning of the tide, today was no ordinary day.

Jack thought he’d never do something like this but since meeting Miss Fisher, he had been persuaded into doing all sorts of things and in hindsight, couldn’t say he hadn’t enjoyed it for the most part. But this was unlike anything he’d attempted yet. It was permanent. This was as close to commitment as Miss Fisher would venture. He felt exhilarated, terrified and anxious at the same time. He had finally thrown his hat into the ring and revealed the extent of his feelings for her. He knew he couldn’t ask her for the kind of relationship he wanted and needed but if he wanted her, he had to play by her terms. It frustrated him at times. A normally cautious man, she had lit a fire in him and he had to work very hard to control the effect she had on him. He was gratified to know in turn that he had the ability to make her melt; her lustful thirst quenched when he exposed his passionate side, the one he thought didn’t exist. She made it possible for it to emerge from the numbness he had been submerged in all these years.

For a while they had agreed to a separation, one that neither of them wanted but badly needed, to clear their heads on what they meant to each other. Coming back from England and settling into somewhat of a similar routine wasn’t as easy as they realised. The nightcaps were still in play; the chess games, her joining him at work. She had urged him to move into Wardlaw but he had refused up until now. He was aware that she was trusting him with her sanctuary and yet he held off. After their last shouting match, they knew they needed some space, even though the make-up sex always proved to be glorious. Some of his essentials were housed in her suite and that was as far as he could take it right now, waiting for the day he would take up her offer.

Phryne for her part was incredibly nervous and excited, not so much for what they were about to do but at the level of commitment she was about to embark on. She was acknowledging what he meant to her even if nobody else saw it. She didn’t need to ask where he would display his allegiance, it would be tucked neatly under his three-piece suit, available to only a doctor’s examination and for her to uncover. She would be equally cautious, most unlike her. But this was not a frivolous undertaking. She had to approach this in the way her Inspector did.

They lay in their chairs and waited. They said nothing but looked at each other with matching exhilaration; wordlessly communicating with ease, a skill that baffled everyone else. The tension in the room ratcheted as their assigned artists prepared their equipment. He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. Meeting her eyes, he saw the same terror gently infused with her ready smile. She was so up for this and when he understood that she wouldn’t back out, cold relief flooded him. This meant as much to her as it did to him.

The cold needle buzzed and bit into the skin, pain reverberating up and down but they both set their jaw and let their minds wander; imagining that they were on a case, waiting and watching for the suspect from behind a door for they had to keep deadly still. Phryne’s eyes watered and she gasped at the sensation. Jack closed his eyes and ground his teeth to stop himself from reacting. The breathing got more intense, the scratching and nipping intensified and neither could prevent from crying out on occasion as the needle scored their love and passion in indelible ink right into their veins. They were at the point of no return. In a strange way, it felt almost to their most intense level of making love.

It seemed endless, that shrieking pain dulling down to an agonising kitten scratch, making their souls tremble and their heads spin. Phryne had to close her eyes against the dizziness that had overwhelmed her and feared she would black out. Jack didn’t want to admit that he was feeling the same while he matched her short sharp breaths. They kept painfully still.

At the final torturous finish, their breaths escaped their mouths slowly and their bodies stopped quaking. They lay there limp and exhausted, senses still reverberating from the experience. Urged by their artists; they looked to find that the work had been done, their promise inscribed on their bodies. She of course had it on her left thigh, just above her stocking top where her gun met her garter. One of the most gorgeous lines of Shakespeare Jack had ever quoted to her in the most unromantic place of the ladies’ washroom with a corpse in attendance, over a blood covered aubergine pearl. The essence of sensuality.

_He kissed the last of many doubled kisses, this orient pearl_

He, in turn had gone for something so whimsical it took her breath away. It wasn’t like him at all. But in that, she recognised his declaration of devotion, the way she had exposed his lonely heart and coaxed it to bask in the light. They matched on the left side, closest to the heart. He had chosen to place it on a more daring location, the underside of his arm. He would have to watch out for that when he went swimming. To her delight, he had quoted her as if she was a famous author. He glanced at her and noted that her expression reflected how he felt inside. He didn’t have to tell her that, she could see it in his eyes. The deed was done.

_To pirates, adventurers and boys on bicycles_

They each chose something meaningful to them, the words that would remind them of each other. A tattoo was as enduring as it got, a mark of devotion that they would carry with them forever and wherever they were in the world.


End file.
